


Are We Talking About Yours?

by LoonyLovelyLuna



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Drarry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLovelyLuna/pseuds/LoonyLovelyLuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Draco finds out that Harry is gay and lost 2 friends over it, he plans on bringing it up in class to humiliate Potter. What happens when Harry responds. How is he supposed to answer a question like that?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are We Talking About Yours?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot inspired by a pic that was shared in a Harry/Draco group on Facebook and a fic was requested.

Stupid Potter.

 

_Stupid Potter and his stupid friends,_ huffed Draco inwardly as he watched his nemesis (read “love interest”) joke and laugh with his friends during lunch.

 

_Stupid Potter and his horrible hair, and horrible wardrobe, and horribly hot -_

 

“... yeah, I heard that he's a shirt lifter. Apparently his mu-ggleborn friend ended up having a huge problem with it. Quit being his friend, won't talk to him – the whole thing. The little Weaselette, too. Heard that the entire House ostracized them for turning on Golden Boy.”  
  
Draco turned to his friends, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Greg Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe.  
  


“What was that? What were you just talking about?”

 

“Oh, nothing,” Pansy replied nonchalantly. “Just about the fact that it's confirmed that Potter is gay and ended up losing his friendships with Granger and the female Weasel.”

 

Draco turned back to stare at Potter and his friends, as  _his_ friends smirked and traded smug looks behind his back. 

 

Well, apparently, not  _all_ of his friends. He scanned the far end of the table... yes, there they were. Granger and Weaselette. Muttering at each other and casting hateful looks at Potter.

 

Potter, for his part, was doing a  _very_ good job of either pretending not to notice them or actually ignoring them, Draco couldn't be sure which. He was surrounded by Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood, of all people. They sat talking and laughing as they ate, paying no attention to the opposite end of the House table.

 

The wheels in the Slytherin Prince's mind slowly started turning, and he developed a wonderful plan... a plan of making sure that he would be able to humiliate Potter and make sure his attention were firmly on  _him_ ... er, destroy his life utterly.  
  
_Yes. Perfect._

 

“What devious plan are you devising this time, Drake?” Blaise asked sardonically.

 

“Just watch,” smirked Draco, standing up from his seat and smoothing down the front of his robes. “In Transfiguration. You'll see. It's _brilliant_.”

 

Each of his friends shared meaningful looks, then had to turn away to stifle laughter. This ought to be good.

 

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Draco and Blaise sat across the aisle from Harry and Ron, the Slytherin smirking in the Gryffindor's direction as he took his seat.

 

“Hey,” Draco nudged Blaise, and turned to look back at Crabbe and Goyle. “Check this out.”

 

He affected a bored look before speaking up, making sure to keep his eyes front. “Potter!”  
  
When he noticed the brunette's attention was fixed on him, he continued. “I heard you like cock...”

 

“Well, Malfoy,” drawled Harry, smirking at Ron. “That depends....” he stared in Draco's direction until the blond turned to look him in the eye before slowly licking his lips. “Are we talking about _yours_?”

 

Draco stared at Harry's mouth for a moment before what the question had been sunk in. Startled grey eyes met smiling green and held. There was curiosity in those green eyes... a demand for the question to be answered.  
  
Luckily for the Slytherin, Professor McGonagall walked in and class began.

 

For the rest of the day, even through dinner, Draco thought of Harry's question, of the look in his eyes... he couldn't get it out of his head.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

He'd been laying in bed for 3 hours already, trying desperately to sleep, but unable. Every time he closed his eyes he saw them, smiling emeralds... and that question... that fucking  _question_ ... 

 

“ _Are we talking about_ yours _?”_

 

With a sigh he sat up to dress, thinking that perhaps a walk around the school would help him clear his thoughts so he could go to sleep.

 

As he wandered the halls, there was nothing to distract him from the question... the eyes...

 

Finally, tired of walking and frustrated with himself for not being able to control his own thoughts, he sat in an old hidden alcove to rest and ponder the question some more.

 

“ _Are we talking about_ yours _?”_

 

Damn him! Damn Potter through all nine levels of Hell! Why couldn't he get that one fucking question  _out of his mind_ ?!  
  
_Simple,_ his mind immediately supplied.  _You haven't answered it, yet._

 

That brought him up short. He hadn't answered it. Yet. He hadn't had a chance to, McGonagall showed up to start class and he hadn't interacted with the Golden Boy since then.

 

“ _Are we talking about_ yours _?”_

 

Damn it.

 

There was only one way for him to answer a question like  _that_ ...

 

“Yes, Harry,” he muttered resignedly. “We _are_ talking about mine.”

 

“Thank Merlin for that. I was afraid I'd end up pining away from unrequited love.”  
  
Draco's head whipped up to see an exhausted Boy Who Lived standing in the entrance to the alcove. “Potter, what are you doing? Spying?”

 

Harry shook his head and sat down next to Draco. As the Slytherin watched dumbly, he took his hand and threaded their fingers together.  
  
Draco stared down at their intertwined hands for a couple of long minutes before looking up at Harry, a completely lost and, did Harry dare think, _hopeful_ , look on his face?   
  
“Harry?”

 

_That_ shook him out of his reverie... “Yeah?”

 

“What...?”

 

Harry chuckled and turned to look at Draco. “I've fancied you for three years,” he laughed at the look on the blond's face. “Yeah. I couldn't do or say anything before, because of the whole psychotic meglomaniac after me... but I'm free now.  _You're_ free now. I figured I could try and if it didn't work, I would just go on with my life, dying a little bit inside each day.”  


 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Gryffindors. You don't have to be so melodramatic. A simple “I really fancy you. Would you like to snog?” would have done just as well.”

 

Harry laughed, blushing and shaking his head. “No. I have a feeling nothing with you is simple. I had to get your attention.”

 

“Well, you certainly got that...” the blond said ruefully, pouting a bit.

 

The ebony-haired young man tossed his head back and laughed before grabbing the young blond man and pulling him close.

 

“I really fancy you. Would you like to snog?” his voice was huskier than normal, and his green eyes seemed even sharper.

 

Draco stared into those beautiful eyes, wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, threading his hands into his hair as a result, and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

 

After a few moments, they broke a part, needing air.

 

“Well, I guess I have my answer,” grinned Harry.

 

“Yes, I guess you do,” smirked Draco as he leaned into Harry once more.

 

 

 

 

THE END

 


End file.
